


derailed.

by Collin_chWe



Series: Cloudverse [4]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, On The Way To A Smile: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23981302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Collin_chWe/pseuds/Collin_chWe
Summary: in the aftermath of war, Cloud and Tifa find themselves in a struggle to be happy, and unknowingly share a vague vision of their future, whatever it entails.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Series: Cloudverse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1399900
Kudos: 18





	derailed.

**Author's Note:**

> an old one. just thought of posting since its cloti and what with the fever and all.

She has never felt this wrong being on the train platform. A platform that operates continuously like a clock, accommodating crowds who have come with myriad of intentions, purposes. For one, she had been here too frequently than she might care to admit, occupying one side of one of the benches along the platform just merely to observe the people who were passengers who were strangers who didn’t feel like strangers, then. There would always be a passing compliment or two, be it about the dress she was wearing or the way she had tied her hair or the perfume she had sprayed, though most of the time it was just about her face. She has grown to love them and over time, these crowds have become a testament to the truth of her existence. That she _is_ after all, alive. That there _is_ still a place for her in the present, as the viciousness of her past shackles around her ankles.

Yet it feels wrong being here presently. She feels like an item that has been misplaced, not belonging to its present location. But she has promised herself to not wait any longer. Either for a change or... _him_. She understands that he needs time to heal from all the war and death. To be purged from the wretchedness of having spilled so much blood. It also does not help the fact she is part of his past -- guilt, disappointment, failed expectations that neither of them could pacify one another for-- so if she leaves, he will heal better. 

8.27 a.m.; three minutes till the arrival of the train that will take her away. She takes a deep breath as her heart throbs with memories of him, closing her eyes as she exhales slowly. 

_Slowly…_ the commotion and rattling of train on the railways quieten into the sound of hissing wind. Time stops and she is no longer at the platform. The smell of pine trees intruding her nostrils, and in her quiescent mind, she sees a mountain; _a hand, as fair as the snow in her forsaken hometown, reaching out_. She has been getting visions about them for quite a while now and has not decided what to make of them. And every time they emerge, she finds herself unreservedly yearning, like falling deep into someone’s tentative promises. 

And there goes the time; 8.30 a.m when her train arrives. She picks up her baggage and joins the line to her cabin -- to leaving Midgar for good. 

The inspector checks her ticket and soon she is in her seat settling down the load in her hands, before peering instinctively out the window, bracing her mind to make history of the life in this town, and forget the man who had purloined her heart and soul. To forget all of him that has made her hesitate all those _damn_ times, especially those blue eyes that are engraved in every part of her, and may need a lifetime prescription if she were to look at them now. Those lips that would say her name that she finds beguiling in so many ways which would take her back to when they first kissed, amidst the chaos in the aftermath of escaping death yet and again. _He_ had found her and pulled her close like it was the only right thing to do. It felt so sure and fierce like fate. She remembers the taste of dried blood encrusted on his lips and the sweetness that followed, while the blood on her gloves stained his face as she held it more preciously than her own life.

—————————————

Not long after the train takes off, she hears a thud.

It comes from above her head, then a clunk, a clomp as the steps grow faster and further from her cabin. Like someone...somebody has landed on- _Shit_.

The sound of those boots where a certain lightness takes after the bulky weight of the leather and steel… one that she would never mistake for anything else anywhere. Steps that are meek but with a hidden restlessness, like of someone’s who’s worn down by his own life but doesn’t know how to stop.

Her ears strain for any sound of entrance or commotion in the other cabins, but to no avail. If it had been an enemy, she would have slipped on her leather gloves and dissipated from her seat. Instead, decides to focus looking out at the window, never to turn away even if her life depended on it. 

_How pathetic!_

It does not take long before someone takes the seat next to her, almost without a sound. Like the tip of a needle falling in stagnant water. Her chagrin falters into a thin smile as her eyes wanders on a handsome reflection, before pulling herself together again. 

“I believe I’ve a stowaway sitting next to me.” 

A nonchalant sneer. “I _do_ have a ticket, missy.”

_So, what now, Tifa? What now?_

“Seriously, you should get off before they kick you out.” His smile looks distorted on the window surface as the train moves. It is costing her all her wits preventing herself from turning and... look.

“I know. I will. But before that… I need to know why you’re leaving.”

The train is taking them further away from home. The place they have built their lives together amongst the destruction caused by the war. Rising from amongst the rubble and debris, harbouring a self-centred mindset to claim whatever is left of a good and happier life Midgar could offer. But him being tormented to the brink by the ghost of his past had called for a change. Whatever that change constituted then, she still has no clue as much as what it does now. But leaving, she must admit, is the easiest. They are both holding onto to a precipice, waiting for the time they would eventually lose the grip and fall. So, she will not let him fall. No, not for the life of her.

Why, he asks? Well, she wont hesitate to tell him. 

“Because you’re suffering, Cloud. The headaches, the nightmares and... terrible memories of the war…. I wanted to free you. Free you from anything belonging to your past. Me included.”

Anything at this point may seem presumptuous, regardless of whatever good intention lays hidden underneath. She notices his hands folding into a fist on his knees. 

“But aren’t you my present too? Sure, you’re right I’m being haunted left and right, high and low. And I’m sorry if that has taken a toll on you. But I just can’t give up on us. Not when those crazy things been showing up before my eyes…. every time I think it’s the end, this… I don’t even know what to call it. A vision-? Will emerge inside my head. Like a promise that things will be alright. Maybe not now, but it will turn around at some point. It’s crazy Tifa... but it has kept me going no matter how painful.”

Something lugs at her throat.

“That… that vision. What is it?”

Even as he frowns, she is reminded again of how beautiful this man is. How can a man so greatly afflicted shine this much? For a brief second, she even thinks she sees a pair of wings spreading over his shoulders, before disappearing in a blink of her eyes.

“Of a mountain. Pine trees all around and... a whiff of lavender. Or maybe vanilla? I wouldn’t see you, but I know- I know you were always there...” Finally, for the first time ever since he had sat next to her, blue eyes shift to gaze into carmine ones. Both pair gleaming with unleashed tears. “-that’s why, Tifa, how far you wish to distance yourself from me, I’d always shamelessly chase right after you. But... if you wish to leave anyway, I will... stop then.” Incandescent, like a lit-up candle his eyes are, almost masking the agony in his voice.

“So, will you continue your journey or get off the train with me at the next stop?”

_...a hand, as fair as the snow..._

She recalls a dear friend of hers once said, that once you’re on it, “there ain’t getting off this train”. But she realises now, that the train is not something physically or objectively similar in nature. It is a metaphor. An innuendo. That the train all along.... has been him. The boy who used to get by with just skinned knees. _Her_ Cloud Strife… and in fact, _they are getting off the train._

_...in her forsaken hometown...reaching out..._

By the time the train reaches the next stop, the surrounding areas have become less urbanised, less polluted. Further ahead is Kalm and it will continue its journey across to the eastern continent, traversing the Deep-Sea that stretches all the way down to the southern districts. 

“I was so determined not to get derailed. But look, here I am. Just like that. You’re a jerk, Cloud.”

A cold, strong hand grasps hers, his other caressing her cheek. “And you decided to follow this jerk anyway.”

_Damn, right._

“That aside...how did you know?” She takes a step forward, turning to face him. 

“Know what...?”

“That I was the person you saw in the vision?”

She thinks she sees him almost laughing at her question but halts at a snort. “Because Tifa,” he finally says, grinning as wide as the seas, “I’d know you anywhere.”


End file.
